


Things That Happen After Sunset

by IVK



Series: Midnight to Dawn [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, M/M, and everything is terrible, horrible ideas feat. everyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-05-26 10:00:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6234244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IVK/pseuds/IVK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I miss the way he used to be,” Obi-Wan sighs, and yes, he's drunk now. “Always laughing, getting into trouble and dragging me into it... The good kind of trouble. Not this. I miss hearing him complain about that girl at the coffee shop that he had a crush on, Padme. I swear I thought I died every time he talked about how much he adored her, but now...”<br/>-<br/>Continuation of my AU in which the Jedi are vampire hunters and the dark side is everything they have to destroy. First two parts were posted together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> WELCOME BACK 2 VAMPAKIN HELL  
> that is all
> 
> p.s i decided for part 3 (read: this) to be posted in a new thing considering things have CHANGED A LOT since poor old anakin's 12-6 day job. (night job?)

_Darth Vader is dead._

_Last month on April 19 th, he was slain by Obi-Wan Kenobi. His body was found lifeless in his apartment, stake having missed his heart, but he bled to the point of starvation. Kenobi's location is unknown, as he has followed in the footsteps of Luke Skywalker and gone completely rogue. Consider him a danger to us all. A ticking bomb, unknown motives, unknown allegiance, now that Vader is gone._

Rey lets her hand holding the letter drop to her lap when she finishes reading it out loud to the Jedi. They're all sitting in their typical circle of mismatched chairs in the basement beneath the bar above. One of them owns the bar, which is how they ended up here in the first place, no longer on an abandoned street miles away, but deeply hidden within the city itself.

The letter isn't signed, but Rey can guess who it's from. It was left along with a black cloak, presumably Vader's, and who else would've been close enough to get that than Kylo Ren, his second-in-command?

First in command now, if he's dead.

Rey decides it doesn't matter who the letter is from. Just someone in the dark side, that's all that counts.

She's taken Yoda's place as the leader of the Jedi, now, though none of them would dare refer to her as a _leader,_ or refer to Yoda as such either. But they all know it's the truth. Rey doesn't understand how the hell one of the older hunters didn't take over, but they're all looking at her now, in the silence that follows the last words.

_Vader is gone._

“Thank god!” one of them says with a sigh. “It's about time we got that Skywalker kid out of our hair.”

“He's _dead,_ ” an older hunter hisses at him. “You could at least show some respect.”

“Respect? Why should a _vampire_ deserve respect?”

“I don't believe it...,” Rey says quietly, still looking down at the letter in her hands. She's read it over several times since she first got it, and her eyes trail over the sloppily-written words again.

If Darth Vader really is dead, that means any agreement between the dark and light is over. She doesn't trust Kylo Ren farther than she can throw him. But she'll have to figure out some kind of way to get Yoda safe from Darth Sidious without putting them all in danger.

They're talking among themselves, and she let's them argue and debate Vader's death all they want without intervention. They'll get over it eventually.

How the hell is she going to get rid of Darth Sidious? Yoda warned her not to attack, warned her that's exactly what the vampire wants. And Rey isn't crazy. She won't put them all in danger.

But she is crazy enough to try it herself. She's a fast learner. She learned in a year what it took the rest of the Jedi all of their formative years to master. She's learning more and more every day about the power inside of her, about her _instincts,_ as Luke called it, the way she can talk to Yoda through her _mind._

She'll be alright. And if by some chance she _won't_ be alright, well, she'll probably figure that out before she ends up dead. She can take care of herself.

She calls the council meeting to a close.

 

 

 

Rey's looking at her watch nervously.

It's not like time is relevant. It's after sunset, that's all that matters. But she keeps checking the time anyway out of habit, glancing at the leather wristwatch that used to be Luke's.

Her other hand is wrapped around the cold metal of a pole on the bus, a grip that's usually controlled but is sweating this time. Taking the public bus to hopefully commit a murder.

No, not a murder, she reminds herself. Vampires aren't human. Not really. She has to remember that. But it's hard sometimes. There have been a few Jedi who struggled the same in the past, one of them being Obi-Wan Kenobi himself. Darth Vader never felt remorse, never cringed at the idea of killing, they said. Now he's the beast he always aimed to destroy.

People are looking at her strangely.

No, they aren't.

Stop being paranoid.

They don't know anything about her, the few others on the city bus so late at night. People getting off work late, lost travelers, kids coming home from parties, a girl in the front on some kind of drug. They don't know she's a Jedi. They don't know they could be the next victim of the dark side.

The bus stops and Rey gets off to walk a few more blocks to the abandoned hotel.

_Rey? A bad idea, this is._

She squeezes her eyes shut just briefly at the sound of Yoda's voice in the back of her head, and keeps walking quickly through the sticky May heat.

“I'll be fine,” she answers out loud.

“Will you?” A new voice answers. A real voice. Right in front of her.

She doesn't scream in surprise, doesn't even gasp, simply stops walking and opens her eyes to look at the vampire standing in front of her. A vampire, of course. She can never meet anyone _normal._

“Skip the banter, Ren,” she answers calmly, voice monotone. “Get away from me, I'm in a hurry.”

He tips his head to the side, studying her. Yes, he's changed, she thinks dryly. His hair is still black and too-long but there's something wilder about it. Eyes are still full of some kind of suffering, true, but something else. Bitter determination. Vile power. Everything like Darth Vader. Nothing like Vader at all.

“Are you?” he asks quietly, after he's done inspecting her.

She pulls out her stake, aiming steadily. “Don't make me kill you.”

Kylo Ren takes out a stake as well. Metal, sharpened on both ends, Jedi-style grooves adorning the lenth of it, Jedi-style leather grip in the center. They could carry blades instead, pocket knives. Lots of things can kill humans. It's dramatic, theatrical, _ridiculous_ for them to have stakes such as these.

It's Rey's turn to look at him carefully, scrutinizing his pale features, his shadowed gold eyes. “You've changed,” she says, voice measured. “I don't remember you being so dark last time we met. Was it Vader's death?”

He swings the stake at her to strike, but Rey is quick to block it with her own. She quirks an eyebrow.

“Do I have to remind you that I'm in a hurry?” she says.

“I won't let you kill Darth Sidious,” Kylo Ren spits, a matter-of-fact note to his voice mixed with just enough venom. “He'll get rid of you Jedi once and for all.”

She feels a smirk tugging at her lips. “You have to have him to it for you? Huh.”

He swings again, and again she blocks easily. “You know Vader wanted him dead,” she adds. “We were going to work together.”

“Darth Vader is dead.”

There's something in his eyes when he says this, and maybe it's only because Rey's been training with Luke and all his spiritual nonsense, but she can see fear. Nervousness.

The smirk slowly fades from her face, while she stares into those eyes that only grow more afraid.

“You're lying,” she says. “You're lying, aren't you?”

Fear, definitely. Rage, now, too. “Why would I be lying?” he snaps.

Rey laughs, a bit triumphantly, and takes a step back but keeps her stake raised. “Darth Vader is still alive.” She nods. “I can see it. You're lying. You've turned against him and now you want him dead so you can take over the dark side.” The last part is a guess, but it'll make him fear her even more if she's right.

The only thing that confirms this, though, is the fist that cracks against her skull, so that the last thing she sees is the world whirring by before she hits the concrete.

This is the second time he's knocked her out and it was already old the first time.

 

 

 

He can't drink anything but blood.

His body will reject anything else, but alcohol still gets him drunk, and it'll get him drunk faster than when he was human. Which is why he drinks anyway.

Which is also why he's sitting at the counter in a bar in a city far from home, staring at the drink in front of him in contemplation. Strong beer, two shots dumped in, too. Going to be disgusting. Going to make him sick. Going to get him drunk, it's fine.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi, is that you?”

He sets the glass down just as he's about to take the first sip, turning to look at the man sitting in the shadowy corner two seats over. He has a hood drawn over his head, but when he looks up, Obi-Wan recognizes him immediately. A Jedi he's known since he was a kid, and Anakin's old uncle.

“Luke? Luke Skywalker?”

He looks older than Obi-Wan remembers, though it hasn't even been two years since they've seen each other.

“In the flesh,” he answers in that quiet voice he's always had.

“What are you doing here?” Obi-Wan shifts down the few seats between them so they're next to each other, sliding his hell of a drink down with him.

“The same as you.” He nods to the strawberry daiquiri on the counter in front of him.

Obi-Wan sighs, looking back at his drink in contemplation. To get drunk or to not get drunk. He could just talk to Luke, ease his mind that way.

He looks back down at his hands and still sees them covered in blood.

He takes the first sip of the drink, gritting his teeth at the taste.

“I thought vampires could drink nothing but blood?” Luke inquires.

Fuck. Shit. “Yeah,” he says. “I guess.” He doesn't want to explain.

Which Luke realizes, because he doesn't ask. Good old Luke. Obi-Wan has missed him. “So, what brings you to this backwater town?”

He snorts. “The same as you,” he repeats Luke's answer. But he takes another drink. “Trying to get away from the last one.”

“Oh? Well, I guess that's fair. Could I ask why?”

Obi-Wan just shakes his head in exasperation, which probably gives away his answer. “Anakin.”

And Luke smiles in a knowing sort of way, taking a sip of his strawberry daiquiri through the white straw it comes with. “Last I heard, he was leading the dark side and sent someone to bring you home after running away.”

He laughs a little. “Have you heard I'm the one who killed him?”

Luke's face is serious, looking at him closely. “No,” he says. “But I have heard he's the one who turned you.”

Obi-Wan nods, and takes a long pull from his glass. He's tipsy already. The only good side to being a vampire. “I didn't kill him, by the way.”

“Hm?”

“Just tried.”

Luke doesn't ask why, which Obi-Wan appreciates. “I have to ask,” he says instead. “Is it true you love him?”

“Who did you hear that from?”

“No one. It sounded better than a blatant accusation.”

“I do,” he admits unabashedly, partly because he's a bit drunk, partly because Luke is one of the only other Jedi with a preference for his own gender. He drinks the rest of the glass quickly. “I love him so much, Luke, and yet I...” He slides his hand down his face, keeping it posed at his chin while his brows knit together. “I wish I knew what to do about him.”

“I can't help you there,” the Jedi says. “I don't think anyone knows him like you do.”

“I miss the way he used to be,” Obi-Wan sighs, and yes, he's drunk now. “Always laughing, getting into trouble and dragging me into it... The good kind of trouble. Not this. I miss hearing him complain about that girl at the coffee shop that he had a crush on, Padme. I swear I thought I died every time he talked about how much he adored her, but now...”

Luke puts a comforting hand on his arm. “Is he still back in town?”

Obi-Wan shrugs miserably.

“Maybe you should go back.”

He shakes his head, shutting his eyes. “Can't.”

“I'll come with you, if you want,” he offers. “I don't really want to go back anymore than you. But we all have to face our fears eventually, right? To be honest, we could leave now." He nods to his drink. "This doesn't really have any alcohol in it--I don't drink."

“Yeah.” Nodding, he's nodding. “Yes. You're right. Let's go.”

When he hauls himself to his feet, he stumbles and catches himself against the counter. Last time he was drunk at a bar, he'd fucked Anakin in the basement. Anakin. Fuck. He wasn't this drunk then.

He doesn't go downstairs into a storage room, this time, he goes into a graffiti-covered bathroom and retches into a toilet while trying not to cry about vampires. Again.

 


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have to include a tw for mention of suicide  
> and probably for gettin excessively SMASHED  
> actually this chapter is a Wreck buckle up

He walks up short concrete steps up to the front door of the small house. It's a small neighborhood, as rural as it can get while still being called the 'suburbs' and this is the house Anakin spent the first eighteen years of his life.

Everything had changed when he'd been in the city with his mom, who had turned her back to pay the parking meter, and nine-year-old Anakin had run off to chase a stray cat. Not far. No, he didn't think he ran far. Just wanted to catch the poor cat, because it was cold, and his mom said it was going to snow a lot that night.

It did snow a lot. And his mom was on the phone with the police, crying and reporting her missing child, when Obi-Wan carried Anakin inside, his old mentor Qui-Gon Jinn waiting in the warm car in the driveway. Anakin's neck was patched up. Obi-Wan said he'd most likely fallen. Anakin agreed that he had. His mother ran to him and embraced him and kissed his cheeks and his forehead over and over.

There are usually potted plants on the small front porch, vibrant and colorful. There should be a welcome mat in front of the glass door. None of these things are here. He doesn't recognize the car in the drive way; it's something silver and small but not unlike his mom's taste. It's been a long time.

Anakin has a bouquet of flowers in his hands that shake. How are you supposed to just drop by your mom's house, who you haven't talked to since you were a senior in high school?

It's okay. The bouquet is made of baby's breath and pink carnations, and his mom likes those. He forgets all the words he practiced and rings the door bell.

It takes a minute or so. She could be asleep, he considers. It's eight. Kind of late, but that's when the sun sets. There are children's voices from the other side of the door, talking loudly in that way kids do. They never used to talk to the rest of the family, but maybe after Anakin left, his mom reached out.

The door swings open, revealing a man maybe Obi-Wan's age, with a toddler on his hip, and another kid peeking around his side.

Oh, shit. She must have moved.

“Those flowers for me?” the man asks, laughing.

“They—uh—” Anakin laughs half-heartedly. “Sorry, I thought someone else still lived here. My mom used to, I haven't seen her in a while. Shmi Skywalker. Do you know where she moved to?”

The man's face falls, but he smiles again, this time in a way that's almost sympathetic. “Why don't you come inside? My name's Chris.” He sets down the toddler, glancing down at the two kids. “You two go watch TV with Mom, alright?”

The kids nod and scamper off, giving Anakin weird, curious looks. Anakin introduces himself to this super-dad Chris guy, standing around in the kitchen that looks so familiar yet so different. Nostalgia aches in his heart. But it's not the same place as it once was.

He doesn't really want to stick around and chat, just wants to know where his mom moved to.

“Anakin—cool name! You like coffee?” The man hands him a mug of it anyway, and he just says a quick thanks.

“So, about Shmi—your mom,” he continues. His voice grows softer. “You uh—you haven't heard anything about her?”

Anakin shrugs. “We never really talked to the rest of the family. And I haven't seen her in about four years.”

Chris nods, humming in thought. “So, you don't think you could talk to any of them now? Get in touch somehow? I could help, if you think I might be able to.”

Anakin fights the urge to just leave. He knows when he's not wanted, and this guy's no help. Why can't he just get to the point? “No, we don't talk.”

“Hm.” He takes a drink of his own coffee, and while his eyes are elsewhere, Anakin discreetly sets his own mug down on the kitchen counter. “Well, I could explain, but I really think you should hear it from someone else. Family, or something.”

“What happened?” Anxiety knots in his stomach and he assures himself that it's an over-reaction.

Chris sighs. “Listen, kid... I hate to be the guy to tell you this but... the last lady who lived here isn't around any more.”

The words don't register. “What do you mean?”

The man's gentle smile turns pained, while he puts his hand on Anakin's arm. “Shmi overdosed on pills about three years ago. I don't think there was a funeral or anything, even.”

Oh.

Anakin looks down at the bouquet at his side. “Oh.”

“I'm so sorry, kid.”

He shakes his head, smiling forcefully. “No, no, it's alright. It is. I'm uh, I'm gonna head out!”

Chris tries to stop him, tries to get him to stick around and cry on his shoulder or something but Anakin refuses, and when the door comes shut behind him and he's greeted with the silence of the night, it's like a sigh of relief.

 _“Who was that?”_ Anakin can faintly hear the conversation through the door. A woman's voice, probably the guy's wife.

_“This young guy, said his name was Anakin. He was looking for his mom who lived here before us.”_

_“Isn't that the lady who killed herself?”_

_“Yeah. Poor kid didn't even know.”_

Anakin keeps walking until he can't hear them anymore, doors of his car shut, radio on, bouquet lying on the passenger seat.

Obi-Wan bought him the car when he was seventeen. He can remember his mom riding with him a couple of times, each time looking like she was about to have a heart attack from his speeding.

Anakin laughs at the memory and speeds off down the road he's been on thousands of times before.

 

 

 

Anakin lives in a cheap flat similar to the one he had before the dark side. Same building, even. Same top floor. Same stains on the ceiling from a leaking roof. Cabinet full of alcohol.

He kept it together on the way home. He's keeping it together now. He's not going to “lose it” or whatever most people do when death really hits them. His mom is dead. She killed herself a year after he left without saying goodbye.

He opens the bottle of the strongest liquor he has and starts drinking. It doesn't burn his throat. Nothing hurts him anymore, he's fucking indestructible, and all he tastes is bitterness as he drinks the whole bottle in one go.

He sets down the empty bottle, but it's more of just sort of slapping it down onto the counter, which it rolls off of and shatters on the floor. He leans his forehead against his arms that are folded in front of the sink for a while, repressing the urge to puke, realizing how drunk he now is.

Anakin stands back up, world spinning, and takes a pack of old cigarettes and matches out from the cabinet as well.

There's a party tonight at one of the prestigious colleges a few blocks away, supposed to be huge, he heard, and damn it, he's going. So he ends up putting on leather pants, forgets the shirt and puts on his jacket with the pack of cigarettes slid into the front pocket. His fingers are fumbling when he ties on the masquerade mask he hasn't worn since the night Obi-Wan tried to kill him.

And then he's walking quickly down the street, the world twisting and turning and people are probably looking at him funny. Anakin sticks a cigarette between his teeth, lights it with a match, and inhales sharply.

Immediately, he erupts into a fit of coughing, shakes his head 'no,' and tosses the cigarette into the street. How the hell did Obi-Wan ever smoke regularly?

 

 

 

Obi-Wan lights his third cigarette of the drive so far, leaning his head against the car door, window open and blowing his hair ever direction. He's looking off into the dark highway, the red glow of tail lights blurring, bright floodlights illuminating the road turning into starbursts as he lets his gaze soften.

He's not afraid of going back to the city. He's not afraid of the hotel he'll probably stay at, or the Jedi who will inevitably find him, or the dark side that might kill him for killing their leader. He's only afraid of their leader who is still quite alive, who he hasn't seen since they met at dawn on a roof. But he wants to see Anakin. It's more than a want. It's a need that drills into his bones, ignoring his new body's immortality and threatening to destroy him.

Luke is driving, wind tousling his grayed hair. He wrinkles his nose each time Obi-Wan lights a cigarette, but said he doesn't mind. He's on the phone now—Obi-Wan's phone—with a young Jedi named Rey.

Obi-Wan isn't really listening to their conversation, breathing in the polluted air with lungs that will never be harmed, not even by the cigarettes. It's not an addiction to get over, not anymore. The smoke curbs thirst, chokes out scents, chokes out Luke Skywalker's Jedi blood that's driving Obi-Wan mad stuck in the car with him.

Obi-Wan shuts his eyes, feeling the wind bat against his eyelids, but even then, all he can see is Anakin.

“You're thinking about him, aren't you?” Luke asks, after ending the call with the Jedi girl. It's not any sort of accusation, just a question.

Obi-Wan gives some kind of groan in response. He's still slightly drunk. Doesn't want to think. Can't help but do anything else. No meditation can help him, now. It's suddenly as if nothing can ease his mind but seeing Anakin again.

They parted ways not long after meeting on the roof, by Obi-Wan's suggestion. He said he needed to be alone for a while. Really alone. Anakin wanted to teach him everything about the dark side, but Obi-Wan doesn't want to know everything about the dark side. And he doesn't really think Anakin knows it all, either.

 

 

 

“Do you live here?” Obi-Wan asks, following Luke up the stairs of the apartment building Anakin used to live in before everything changed. He can't picture Luke living in such a crowded city, now that he's left the Jedi.

They've been driving for almost six hours, and Obi-Wan isn't really drunk anymore. Just tired, with the impending sunrise soon to come.

Luke shakes his head, leading his way down the hall on the top floor to the room at the very end. “Rey does,” he answers, and knocks politely on the door three times.

It doesn't take long before Obi-Wan can hear a series of locks clicking, and the door opens. A tentative crack at first, chain still locked in place. But then deft fingers undo that, too, and the door opens fully.

“Luke!” the smiling girl exclaims, beaming at her mentor. Her hair is tied back in a single, messy bun, and she's in jeans and a white t-shirt.

“It's good to see you, Rey.”

Rey's eyes slide over to Obi-Wan, looking him up and down as the large smile fades. She doesn't look angry, just cautious. “You must be Obi-Wan Kenobi. I've heard a lot about you.” She tips her chin up. “C'mon inside.”

So they sit around the living room that's too similar to how Anakin's used to be. Brown leather couch, second-hand by the looks of it. Matching chair—sort of—that Rey sits in, leaving Luke and Obi-Wan to the couch. He tries to ignore her scrutinizing gaze, but he figures he would be wary too, back in his hunter days, if a vampire was in his living room. Especially a vampire who's notoriously the best friend of the dark side's dead leader.

“Things have changed since you left, Luke,” Rey says. Her tone sounds serious, and Obi-Wan gets the feeling it's not a tone she takes on too often.

“What kind of things?” the old Jedi asks.

The girl shakes her head, chewing on her lip. “For one thing, Yoda's been kidnapped,” she explains. “By Palpatine. I've been talking to him though, like you taught me to.” Her smile comes back, just a little. “If I can meditate, I can usually reach out to him.”

Which only interests Obi-Wan more, and he sits forward intently. He can practically hear Anakin calling bullshit on it.

“That's wonderful, Rey,” Luke says, pride glimmering in his old eyes. “But what should we do about Yoda?”

“I don't know!” she exclaims. She lowers her head, glancing away. “I tried going after him myself.”

“You can't do that,” Obi-Wan interjects. “Palpatine is too powerful, even against vampires. He's been around longer than most of them.”

Rey scoffs. “I could take him. Really.”

Anakin would say the same thing, probably. Always ready to rush into fights, to hold his own, denying help. They wouldn't be in this mess had his recklessness not prevailed. No, no, that's in the past. This is where they are now. It won't be undone.

“The three of us could overpower him, though,” Luke mentions. “But... it's true that I don't hunt any longer.”

Rey looks at him with hope in her eyes like a girl who knows little of sorrow. “Just this once,” she begs. “I know you're trying to be some spiritual pacifist hippie, but the truth is... we need you. I tried teaming up with Darth Vader, and we were going to bring together the dark and the light just for a second to kill Palpatine.”

“The dark and the light can't be combined,” Obi-Wan says. “It's impossible. They're opposites.”

But Luke is shaking his head. “The two are more alike than you think. Two halves of the same whole. One couldn't exist without the other.”

“Which is why I _thought_ it was going to be a good idea,” Rey continues. “But now the dark side thinks Darth Vader is dead—”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan interrupts suddenly, not fully meaning to. He hates to interrupt people. “Just call him Anakin. I can't... I can't listen to that name.” He looks off at the carpet, as if he's ashamed. Perhaps he is. But when he looks up, Luke is just smiling gently at him.

“They think _Anakin_ is dead,” Rey continues simply. “So they're being led by Kylo Ren now—and trust me, that guy isn't about to make any compromises. I think he wants Dar—Anakin dead. And he knows he's alive.”

“How did you find out Anakin is alive?” Obi-Wan asks.

Rey shrugs. “Just a feeling. I could tell Ren was lying about it.”

“That's very impressive, Rey,” Luke praises her. “But an alliance with the dark side is unnecessary. I believe you should get my nephew to help you.”

“We don't know where he is,” Obi-Wan reminds them.

Luke glances to the window, which is beginning to brighten faintly with daylight. “We'll talk about him tonight,” he says. “For now, you should rest, Obi-Wan.”

He sighs. Luke is probably right. He feels like he could fall asleep at the first lull in conversation. But how is he supposed to rest, knowing Anakin is in this very city? Knowing this is the same floor of the same building Anakin used to live in back when everything was semi-normal?

When Luke and Rey go out to get breakfast, Obi-Wan lies down across the couch after shutting the blinds, and falls asleep the moment his head hits the cushions.

He dreams of sunlight reflected in blue eyes.

 

 

 

Loud music.

Sweet lips, incense, sweat, laughter from beyond the thin wall that separates the bathroom from the rest of the party.

Anakin can't see straight, but that's okay, because he doesn't really want to. He has his face buried in a girl's neck, kissing her over and over. She's sitting on the damp counter of the bathroom sink with her legs wrapped around him and her honey-brown hair is twisted into tangles. Big, brown eyes. Plush lips. Kind heart.

His fingers dig into her thighs so hard they'll leave bruises, surely. The music is pounding from the main room, and they'll probably get the cops called, but then again, vampire hearing is much more sensitive.

He doesn't want her blood.

It's hardly enticing. Anakin has been around Jedi blood too often to be so easily entranced by that of normal people. But Obi-Wan... He tasted Obi-Wan's blood once. Once was enough. Once was all he needed, which he shouldn't have done, which was in the past, which _wasn't actually enough at all._ But Obi-Wan is a vampire now and that's what he and Obi-Wan will be forever.

The girl with her flush body pressed against him looks like Padme.

Red drips from her neck, like Padme, staining her pretty white shirt like it had Padme's, and she just gasps and laughs and pulls him closer. It's so easy. It's always so easy.

Anakin lays her down in the bathtub and pulls the thin shower curtain shut. He washes the blood off his face in the sink, and after leaving the bathroom he leaves the party.

Then he's walking down the street, music gone but the city streets louder, even so close to morning.

It _is_ close to morning.

He needs to fucking get home but he's so fucking wasted that there are two sidewalks blurring in front of him.

He almost grabs his phone and calls Obi-Wan to come pick him up.

Which is something he hasn't done since before he went dark. If Obi-Wan wants to be alone, if Obi-Wan doesn't _need_ him, then Anakin doesn't need him either.

When he trips on uneven pavement, he decides lying down flat on his stomach on the sidewalk is comfortable enough. He imagines, fleetingly, Obi-Wan coming to save him at sunrise.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh the angst is gonna get lighter soon but enjoy the Supreme Hell for now


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this update later than usual??? it feels later than usual  
> who knows but this week has annihilated me so im going to cut myself some slack!!

“How are we supposed to find one vampire in this entire city?”

Rey asks this from the passenger seat of Luke's car, eyes scanning through the windows that look like they could be cleaned. The sun is just beginning to rise over the city, and Rey could probably use a nap. She's not sure how long Luke's been awake, but Luke has always managed to look like the perfect balance between wide awake and entirely asleep no matter his actual state.

It's not like they're exclusively looking for Vader. Luke suggested they eat, Rey suggested the half-empty box of cereal in the cabinet, Luke said he'd pay for them to get food somewhere. Fine.

The sun is rising, anyway.

“Wait a minute,” Luke says, dodging the accumulating traffic and turning down a quieter street.

“Do we even know if he's still hanging around with those dark side assholes?” Rey mutters. “I mean, they all still think he's dead.”

“There he is.”

“What?”

Luke stops the car alongside the curb and points. There, lying face-down on the cracked sidewalk and shaded conveniently by the adjacent building is the exact vampire they're looking for. Leather jacket sliding off one shoulder, leather pants, dark blond hair tangled.

“Well, that was easy,” Rey says, unclicking her seatbelt and jumping out of the car.

“Rey, wait—”

She ignores the protests of her old mentor, jogging over to the vampire who she considers might be dead. She bends down and gives his shoulder a tug, rolls him over, and swears she hears him mumble something along the lines of “Obi-Wan, is that you?” She rolls her eyes.

“Luke, help me out,” she shoots over her shoulder as he approaches them.

So Luke helps her carry the body of the great, feared leader of the dark side back to the car.

“Make sure you're careful,” Luke grunts, handing the vampire off to Rey who dumps him into the back seat.

She tosses the door shut and dusts off her hands before placing them on her hips and looking in through the window at the creature they've just picked up.

“Well, that's done,” she says. “We should take him back to my place.”

Luke sighs from behind her, looking mildly concerned in his reflection. “Want to get breakfast on the way?”

She nods. “The old diner on 43rd?”

“Sounds good.”

 

 

 

Obi-Wan opens his eyes to find himself staring at the back of a couch, and for a moment, he forgets where he is. But then he recognizes the worn brown leather as the couch belonging to that Jedi girl, Rey, and he's still in her apartment after Luke drove him back to the city. Now he's integrated back into the vampires versus hunters drama, or more specifically, the Anakin Skywalker drama.

At least he got a good day's sleep. There doesn't seem to be anyone else in the apartment—no voices, at least. Rey and Luke could be asleep, he supposes, but it's only sunset. They're probably out.

Obi-Wan rolls over with a sigh, facing the room instead, and then he gasps, eyes going wide and settling on what's lying in the chair across the room.

Anakin.

What the hell is he doing here? Had Luke and Rey found him by some chance? Obi-Wan doubts Anakin would have come along back to Rey's apartment so easily, unless he'd been somehow compromised. Then again, it wouldn't be the first time Anakin has surprised him.

The vampire is dressed, really, like a rock star—or someone trying very hard to look like one. Obi-Wan doesn't mind the leather pants, surprisingly. His eyes linger, in fact, because it's not a bad look.

Oh, no, he's waking up.

Anakin's eyes flutter open for just a brief moment before coming shut again as he adjusts himself in the chair that matches the couch. Hell, Obi-Wan has no idea what to say, and he better think of something fast.

Or, he could just run out of the room and rethink everything.

No, no, terrible idea.

Then Anakin is glancing tiredly around the room, looking too fatigued for a day's rest, and when his eyes fall onto Obi-Wan, they go wide.

He jumps to his feet. “What the fuck?” he exclaims, tripping, and falling back against the wall while knocking over a lamp in the process. It breaks against the floor, glass shattering loudly.

Silence follows, in which from his place fallen on the floor, Anakin stares at Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan stares at Anakin. He slowly sits up while Anakin clambers to his feet.

It's at about that time that a chuckle rises in Obi-Wan's throat. Anakin glances at the broken lamp, leaning back against the wall, and then he's laughing too, which only prompts Obi-Wan to laugh more fully until there are tears in his eyes. He can hardly breathe, and it looks like Anakin is in a similar condition.

Oh, god, it's good to see him laugh again.

They laugh until the hostility returns, ebbing off of the vampire across the room.

“Where are we?” Anakin asks.

“Rey's apartment,” Obi-Wan answers. “She and your uncle Luke are somewhere. What are you doing here?”

Anakin suddenly grasps his head in his hand and looks more hungover than he did thirty seconds ago. “I don't know,” he mutters. “Last I remember, I was at a party and...” He shakes his head, looking up again. “You didn't take me here, I guess.”

“I fell asleep at sunrise.”

Anakin nods. “Yeah, of course. I thought you left. Why did you come back?”

Obi-Wan shrugs. He stands up, feels the need to pace, represses the urge once he's on his feet. He meets Anakin's gold eyes from across the room. “Because of you,” he answers. “I came back for you—I had to.”

But Anakin glances away, hurt clouding his eyes, hiding it from Obi-Wan. He always hides everything. Obi-Wan wishes they could just _talk_ for once. “I thought... you didn't want me,” Anakin is saying. His tone is nonchalant but his quiet voice says otherwise.

Obi-Wan sighs, crossing the room and heading toward him. “Anakin, I didn't want to leave, I...” He fumbles for words. He's Obi-Wan Kenobi, it's unlike him.

He reaches out and puts his hand gently at Anakin's cheek, tilting his head so they're looking at each other again. Gold against gold.

“I'm really glad you're back,” Anakin says. He sounds on the verge of crying, which Obi-Wan hopes he isn't, because when Anakin cries, so does he, and it's too early in the night for that.

“I thought of you every night,” Obi-Wan tells him like it should be obvious, and Anakin just drops his head against Obi-Wan's shoulder. He wraps his arms gently around Anakin, holding him close.

Two vampires, terribly in love.

Two years ago, that would have seemed impossible.

“I love you,” Obi-Wan says, running his hand down Anakin's hair.

 _“Why_?” the vampire whispers.

And Obi-Wan takes a step back, holding Anakin's face in both of his hands. “Anakin, listen to me,” he says. “I've _always_ loved you.”

A knock at the door.

Both of their heads turn, watching as Rey reappears, hair tied back in three buns. She looks around, shutting the door. “Great, you guys aren't killing each other. Or making out,” she says, dropping a box of what looks like donuts onto the kitchen counter. “Where's Luke?”

“I assumed he was with you,” Obi-Wan says.

She shrugs, tossing her keys down near the box. “Eh, who knows where he's off to,” she says, joining them in the living room portion of the flat. “Man, who knew I'd be hosting the notorious Obi-Wan Kenobi and Darth fucking Vader in my living room as guests. But we should probably talk about what the hell's been going on, right?”

“I believe that would be wise,” Obi-Wan agrees. His hands are back at his own sides now and Anakin is standing about a foot away, looking at nothing in particular. He tugs him by the arm to sit down on the couch, while Rey remains standing. It feels like she's there to scold them.

“Where do I start?” she sighs. She looks at Anakin. “Kylo Ren is trying to take your job.”

The vampire glances up, a lock of hair falling away from his face. “What?”

“Yeah, he's been saying you're dead for the past month or so.”

Anakin looks at Obi-Wan for an explanation, as usual. “Did you know about this?”

“Not until recently.”

“Where have you even been since you _died_ or whatever?” Rey asks, putting air-quotes around “died.”

Anakin shrugs miserably. “I don't know. I moved back into my old building and I've just been kind of lurking. I even got a job at the 7-11 on 39th.”

Obi-Wan bursts out laughing at this.

“What?”

He tries to stop smiling. “A _job_? You?” He chuckles. “This is a historic day.”

“I'm capable of working, I just chose not to until I decided homelessness wasn't great.”

Rey snorts. “Until you stopped raking in money from all those people you killed through the dark side, you mean.”

“So what are they doing now?” Anakin asks. His tone has grown considerably colder since the conversation began. “Kylo Ren saying I'm fucking _dead._ ” He laughs bitterly.

“Well, Ren's the leader now,” Rey says. “And the killings by vampires all throughout town are skyrocketing. Listen, man, your _dark side_ has got me working overtime for the Jedi. We keep killing these assholes and Ren just keeps making more and more. The civilians are going to catching on. They're already putting out articles about missing persons. The Jedi are overworked and so are the police. Not to mention, Yoda is still being imprisoned by Palpatine.”

“Fuck Palpatine,” Anakin spits. “We can take him. Why haven't you already?”

Rey sighs. “If I take him alone, he'll kill me. That's what Luke said, and I've actually been stupid enough to not believe him once or twice.”

“Yeah? Luke's a crazy old man,” Anakin mutters. “I could take Palpatine. I could do it tonight.”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan interrupts, putting a hand on his arm. “Dont.”

“Why not?”

“He'll kill you,” Rey says. “We need to team up, like we were going to. The three of us. I mean really, three trained hunters—two of which vampires—against some old vamp? He'll be toast.”

“That sounds more reasonable,” Obi-Wan agrees. He tries to picture himself with his old stake in his hands again, old cloak billowing behind him. It's not hard to imagine.

“We should take this to the council,” she adds. “It's not like this is exactly in alignment with the Jedi Code.”

Anakin explodes beside him. “Fuck the code!”

Obi-Wan's hand is back on Anakin's arm, thumb rubbing slow circles. “If we tell the council of our alliance, it's likely to cause arguments and chaos,” he says. “We'd best do this in secret.”

But the idea of going to a council meeting again... Being a Jedi again, if only for a night, it's tempting. He's thought of ways to become a hunter again, but it seems too impossible. A vampire as a Jedi? Hunting it's own kind? No, it has never been, it will never be. Yoda wouldn't trust a vampire enough to make them a Jedi.

He wouldn't mind being a Jedi. But it's not as if he'd ever say those words out loud.

“We'll do it tomorrow night,” Rey says. “I'll get the stuff today, stakes and whatnot, and then we'll meet back here.”

Obi-Wan stands, tugging Anakin up with him. “Sounds like a plan.” But he has no idea where they're going in the meantime.

Though it seems Anakin does. And Anakin grabs his hand and pulls him out of the apartment without saying another word to Rey.

 

 

 

“Where are we going?” Obi-Wan is asking from behind him, letting Anakin lead him along down the hall. Holding hands, running through nightmares. that's what it always feels like. Except now Anakin's the nightmare. A blood-lusting, dark nightmare.

“My apartment,” Anakin answers shortly, stopping a few doors down. He digs around his pockets for his keys. Why the hell is he wearing leather pants anyway? He vaguely remembers putting on his old black mask, too, but he has no idea at what point during the party he lost that. Good riddance.

“You moved back into the same building?”

“I know, what a coincidence.” He sighs sharply. “I don't even have my fucking keys. Whatever.” He gives the doorknob a hard jerk and with a snap, it comes open. He'll think about lying to his landlord about breaking it later.

He looks back at Obi-Wan when he shuts the door, watching him as he tries to get it to click shut while being broken. God, he's missed him. Missed his gold hair, his gold eyes. Forget blue eyes. Blue eyes are gone. Now all he wants to do is knot his fingers in that hair.

He wants to scream at him. He wants to tell him never to leave again. _Please, don't leave me. I love you._

Anakin does grab him by the front of his jacket instead and slams him against the closed door.

“You want to be a Jedi, don't you?” he shouts.

Obi-Wan's brows furrow. “You picked that up, did you?”

“Of course I did. Your eyes were practically _glowing_ when Rey said we should go to council,” he spits. “I should have known. I should have known you would want to go crawling back to them, even when we're fucking dead.”

“Anakin, the Jedi are all I've known,” he says. “They're my _family._ They're your family, too. They're... not the bad guys, Ani.”

_Ani._

He squeezes his eyes shut, shutting out the nickname, shutting out the fact that Obi-Wan is _right._

“All of this dark side business, this... _Darth Vader_ thing... you have to put it behind you.”

Anakin doesn't want to listen. He leans his head heavily against Obi-Wan's chest and listens to him anyway.

“Right now... we have to focus on getting rid of Darth Sidious. Then the rest of the dark side.”

Anakin moves at least a foot away from him, jumping back and glaring. “Why?” he shouts. “Do you even hear yourself? Getting rid of the dark side? Damn it, Obi-Wan, we're part of the dark side. You want to be a Jedi? You can't! This is what we are.”

“You're being narrow-minded,” he says, shaking his head. “We could be the most powerful Jedi.”

They could.

Obi-Wan is _still right._

Anakin runs his hands through his hair. “I should... probably listen to you.”

“Took you long enough to figure that one out.”

He snorts. “I'm going to shower. Then, I don't know, do you want to go out?”

“Where to?” He asks this so simply, as if he's willing to follow Anakin anywhere.

“Jedi headquarters,” Anakin answers, peeling off his leather jacket. He tosses it onto the couch as he walks past. “Maybe we'll run into someone.”

 

 

 

They don't run into anyone, which is great, really, because Anakin doesn't feel like dealing with Jedi. He's in a t-shirt and jeans, thankful to be out of that evil villain get-up he was in. His hair is still damp.

Obi-Wan is sitting beside him at the bar with his legs crossed with his ankle at his knee. He's in a white leather jacket—a new one, Anakin guesses. He remembers the one he used to wear all of the time, the one that ended up stained with Anakin's blood when he first fought Count Dooku. The memory feels decades old.

The rest of what Obi-Wan wears belongs to Anakin. He's a bit shorter, but the fit isn't too bad. He did complain about the blood stains on the shirt, but Anakin just laughed and told him that's what made it unique.

Besides, Obi-Wan looks good in his clothes.

Neither of them drink from the glasses in front of them, which Anakin bought on his 7-11 salary.

“So, who should it be?” Anakin asks quietly, both of them looking out at the rest of the bar.

“What do you mean?”

“I'm _hungry,_ ” he says. “Got any ideas?”

He sighs, leaning back against the bar counter. “You're the idea guy.”

“What about him?” Anakin suggests, looking at a man sitting in the corner of the bar, reading a book and drinking a glass of something expensive and pretentious.

Obi-Wan is shaking his head. “He's not bad,” he says. “What about her?”

Anakin follows his eyes to a girl sitting in a booth across from an older man. She's pretty—maybe even beautiful—big brown eyes, glistening red hair.

Drugging her date.

“She'll do,” Anakin agrees, getting up.

“Wait—what are you going to do?”

“I don't know, I'll figure it out,” he says, and makes his way across the bar to the girl.

He leans against the booth seat her date is in. “Hey,” he says, smiling. “I don't mean to sound strange, but I had to tell you that you have the prettiest eyes in this entire bar.”

She raises her brows, smiling skeptically. “Thanks.”

The man in the seat turns around to glare at Anakin. “Hey, man, that's my date. Lots of other pretty eyes in here.” He stakes a sip of the drugged drink.

“Of course,” Anakin says, and he's still giving the girl his best bedroom eyes, which he occasionally flits across the bar to look at Obi-Wan with until he's blushing red.

He asks the girl, whose name turns out to be Jesse, if she smokes, which she admits she does, and he offers her a cigarette outside. He tells her he has that brand everyone in 7-11 always asks for, or wishes they were asking for, so she agrees, and leaves her date in the booth, looking perfectly pissed.

Anakin blows him a kiss on the way out.

And then gestures for Obi-Wan to follow him.

He takes Jesse outside through the back door, which opens up into a quiet alley lit by the streetlamp at the end. Obi-Wan pretends not to look at them, lighting a cigarette and looking off at the street.

“Is he your friend?” Jesse quietly asks Anakin.

“Nah. He looks like a tool, anyway,” he says, making sure Obi-Wan hears.

She's smiling when he leans in as if to kiss her, cornering her. “I bet you don't even really smoke.”

“What makes you say that?” he asks, and doesn't even pretend to kiss her neck before biting in.

She screams. A lot, actually, and too loud. Obi-Wan rushes over and cups his hand over her mouth, eyes glancing nervously about.

Anakin tears away from her. “Break her neck.”

He does, with a wince, and the body falls to the ground in a tumble of pretty copper hair.

“That wasn't so bad, huh?”

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “I can't believe you're so relaxed about this,” he mutters, kneeling by the body. He picks up her wrist, looking sad. “Are you going to let the rest go to waste?”

“No,” Anakin says, and kneels down on the other side of her. “Sharing is caring, right?”

So Obi-Wan sinks his teeth into the wrist, and Anakin bites her neck again. Warmth rushes into his mouth, but blood gets cold so fast. She tastes like liquor, like drugs, like old cigarettes.

But blood is bitter life, and its taste overpowers those things easily enough.

Anakin glances up, pulling away from her neck to find himself looking Obi-Wan in the eyes. His eyes are filled with dizzy ecstacy, nothing Anakin has ever quite seen in him before. Blood drips from Obi-Wan's lips, from his chin, and Anakin probably looks the same.

He's not sure what exactly is communicated between them, or how long they really stare into each other's eyes over the corpse of a dead girl. But they're both dizzy from the blood, in a kind of stupor, and when Anakin slowly raises his hand as if to reach out and touch Obi-Wan's face, Obi-Wan just grabs Anakin's hand in his own.

Then they're kissing, lips covered in crimson coming together, bloody tongues mingling. Obi-Wan's hand, the one not grasping Anakin's, comes to slide into Anakin's hair. It's a gentle kiss. A slow sort of thing. Tired, even. Anakin wonders if this is the most affection they've really ever shown each other, and it's all with a corpse between them.

But it's Obi-Wan, there's nothing but Obi-Wan. His mouth, his hands, the heat of his breath, the warmth of his touch that will soon grow cold. The kiss feels endless. They're not in the alley by the Jedi headquarters, not bloody and sitting on the dirty ground. They're suspended in time, in a place that's only them.

God, Anakin really loves him.

“Well, look who's alive.”

Reality.

A strange voice from the end of the alley.

When Anakin pulls away quickly from Obi-Wan's lips, it's to find himself surrounded by at least ten vampires. Newborns.

Well, shit.

“We've been away from the Jedi too long,” Obi-Wan murmurs, “I think our senses are dulled.”

“What the hell is this?” Anakin spits, standing up. He looks around for the one who spoke.

Then there's another newborn walking between the blockade of others, looking perfectly self-righteous and dressed all in black. Short red hair, a look on his face that says he has a stick up his ass.

“Arrest them,” stick-ass says.

The vampires grab Anakin and Obi-Wan, binding their wrists in wooden handcuffs. What the actual _hell?_

“Arrest—what do you think this is? Who are you?”

Stick-ass ignores him and instead speaks to the other newborns again. “Have them taken to Lord Ren.”

Well, this is going to be an interesting night.

 


	4. 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen,,,,,i aint in control here anakin skywalker took the wheel

“I've been trying... to... _control_ the dark side. The vampires.”

It's somewhere cold and dark that Anakin is brought to. The bag they threw over his head is gone now, but his surroundings are inky black shadows all the same. He's in some kind of cell, fingers wrapped around the wooden bars, and he can hardly see Kylo Ren's face from where he stands mere inches away on the other side.

“But they're difficult,” Ren continues. “They listened to you. They won't listen to me.”

“Maybe you shouldn't have told them I was fucking _dead_ ,” Anakin spits, glaring hard into Ren's eyes, but Ren won't look at him.

The vampire shrugs. “Maybe not,” he admits. “But when you ran after Kenobi after the attack and never returned, well... we thought you were.”

“You knew I was alive! I saw you,” Anakin recalls. Yes, weeks ago, he saw Ren, and Ren took off running and pretended not to notice him.

“You could have at least told us you were going rogue before you left.”

Anakin only scowls at this. He's not wrong. Maybe he had been overly dramatic, disappearing the way he did. But why should it have mattered? He's the leader, god damn it, he's Darth fucking Vader. They should have known. _Going rogue._ It sounds barbaric.

“Why are you taking me prisoner?” he asks instead of answering. “Your fucking police force or whatever was really cute. Also, what did I tell you about making new vampires? Only I'm allowed to do that.”

“ _I'm_ in charge!” Ren shouts suddenly, grabbing onto the wooden bars. The silence that follows the words is jarring. “ _I_ control the dark side. Not you. Who could trust a vampire who was once a _Jedi?_ I'm not as weak as you. You want to take back the power? Good _luck._ ”

Anakin doesn't really have time for this. “Where is Obi-Wan?” he demands, cutting to the chase.

“Obi-Wan? That name doesn't seem to ring a bell.”

“Stop fucking around, Ren. Where is he? What did you do to him?”

“Me?” he asks quietly. “No, I haven't done anything to him. I had him taken somewhere else, to a new friend of mine... What's his name... Darth Sidious?”

Anakin clenches fists around the bars, the wood scraping against his skin until his hands bleed. He wants to rip the bars apart and tear Ren's head from his shoulders—but he knows he can't. Not unless he wants to take his own hands off in the process. Palpatine. What the hell would _Palpatine_ do with Obi-Wan? Obi-Wan, who Palpatine nearly convinced Anakin to kill. Yoda hadn't even been able to take the vampire down on his own, seeing as he's still being held captive.

 _“Why?”_ Anakin shouts.

Ren looks away, sighing to himself as he takes a few steps away as if to leave. His back is to the cell. “Well... You're both getting in my way. Forgive me. I wanted to deal with you myself.” When he glances back at Anakin, he gives a small laugh. “My _maker_.”

 

 

 

Nausea and discontent.

Crosses.

Anakin... Where...

When he holds his hands in front of his face, they shake and blur in the candle light. When he tries to stand, his knees buckle and he collapses back into the chair. It's set against the back wall of the room, by a window where moonlight streams in. The dark room is spinning. He's surrounded by a half-circle of small, wooden crosses.

He's been theorizing what it is about the symbol that creates such a weakness in vampires. He thinks vaguely of belonging in hell, weakened by the holiness of it. But that's just the story they tell apprentices. What they don't tell apprentices is that no one truly knows the reason.

Anakin... Where is Anakin...

The door at the other side of the room creaks open. Hotel. He's in a hotel, yes, definitely. Old, abandoned hotel. An old man enters. No, not a man, a vampire. Darth Sidious, dressed in a black cloak with the hood drawn over his head. He keeps his distance from Obi-Wan, from the crosses.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi!” He sounds so cheerful, clasping his pale white hands together. “We finally meet again. It's good to see you. I see Skywalker was able to turn you Dark after all!”

Obi-Wan tries to keep his vision steady. “So...” he mumbles. “Are you going to tell me where he is? Or are you going to threaten me for a while first?”

Palpatine laughs. It's a creepy sort of laugh, one that Obi-Wan has no wish to hear again. “No worries!” he says. “He is safe with his first-turned, Kylo Ren.”

Obi-Wan suddenly gets a hell of a lot more nauseous. He tries to keep calm. It's not as if he can spring to his feet and fight the old vampire. Yoda is here somewhere. If anything, he should find him if he ever escapes all these _crosses._

“I also have your beloved Jedi, Yoda,” the vampire continues. “Ah, he knows he cannot fight me—he hasn't tried once to escape. All he does is meditate and meditate. A boring lifestyle, you Jedi have.”

 _You Jedi..._ “You are mistaken,” Obi-Wan says simply, eyes on the blurry floorboards. “I am not a Jedi.”

Palpatine laughs. “Oh, yes you are, Obi-Wan Kenobi,” he says, leaving the room. “Oh, yes you are.”

 

 

 

As much as vampires are supposed to like the darkness, being creatures of the night or whatever, near total blackness gets old fast. Anakin doesn't even know where he is. When he tries to think logically about where he may have been taken, memories resurface of when Rey and the Jedi ambushed him. Memories of sunlight burning his flesh. Of Ren _saving him_ and tossing him a cloak. Of raising it to his face and detecting Obi-Wan's scent immediately.

God _damn_ it, where the hell is Obi-Wan?

The question has gotten him to pacing, and he's been pacing for so long that surely doing it any longer will form a rut in the cement floor.

But then footsteps come to the hall and Anakin freezes, staring into the darkness, until a shadowed but familiar face approaches. “Darth Vader.”

“Phasma!” he exclaims, relieved to see a friend. Then again, she could have turned against him too. She shushes him quietly.

The vampire looks at him sadly. He's never seen her look sad. She's always been calm and cheerful. Mellow, but never sad. She lowers her head.

“Where are we?” he whispers.

“An abandoned hotel,” Phasma answers softly. “You may be familiar with it... Yoda is being held prisoner here by Darth Sidious, along with Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

As much as the news should startle him, all he can feel is relief at knowing Obi-Wan is close, knowing Anakin still has a chance at saving him.

“You gotta get me out of here, Phas.” He's so close. Phasma will let him out, Anakin will find where Obi-Wan is being held, and they'll get out of here. He'll fight Palpatine himself if he has to. One on one, if he has to.

“I'm... afraid I can't do that.”

“What? What do you mean you can't? Why not?”

She turns her gold eyes away from him. “Sometimes... you have to do things that aren't right. You have to understand what you are.”

“Don't tell me you're with him, don't tell me that,” Anakin says. He's raising his voice but he doesn't care. “Kylo fucking Ren? You'll follow that _kid_ before me?”

“The dark side is my _home!_ ” she exclaims, brows drawing together. She shakes her head. “I'm sorry... A-Anakin.” She's never called him that before. The name feels personal and he wants it erased from her lips. “Kylo Ren is going to kill you before sunrise.”

When she turns her face away, a tear slides down her cheek.

And then Anakin is alone again, left to wait around for his apparent death.

He sits against the back wall of the cell, cold cement at his back. He doubts Ren could kill him, not one to one, no. But there are a variety of other ways Ren could _arrange_ for Anakin to be killed, and none of them sound very pleasant in his head.

He needs to figure out how to get out of this cell. He could so easily break the wooden bars apart, but they would cut into his hands before they even splintered. He hits his head back against the wall with a sharp sigh. If only he could just kick the bars out and make some grand heroic escape.

His boots.

He's wearing boots. Wood can't cut through those.

Then he's jumping to his feet, going back over to the bars. Why hadn't he thought of this sooner? It's so simple! Ren is an idiot to think this cell could ever hold him.

Anakin kicks two of the bars apart, grins at the pieces of wood that snap and fall to the floor, and then he's slipping through the gap and running down the dark corridor. It takes him a second to remember that he has no idea where he is, other than that he's in an old hotel remade into a dark side headquarters. He's in a kitchen—or, what used to be a kitchen. The cell was a supply closet. Turning on an old, dusty lightswitch does nothing, which is pretty much what he expected.

Voices.

Anakin hears them from down the hall when he comes up a flight of creaky stairs, and he presses himself back against the wall as they grow nearer. A glimpse at what lies beyond the stairs shows a candle-lit hotel lobby, a mostly wide-open space with little furnishings left.

One of the two men's voices is Ren. The other Anakin _knows_ he recognizes, but he can't match it to a face.

_“Hux, please. I have the situation entirely under control. Darth Vader won't be getting out any time soon.”_

_“Lord Ren, if I may, control is the_ last _word I would assign to you.”_

Right, it's stick-ass. Hux, apparently. That fucking ginger with the black coat three sizes too big that _arrested_ Anakin and Obi-Wan. Also known as, the reason Anakin is in this mess.

Anakin runs out into the lobby before he bothers to think twice, runs at the two vampires who glance over just as Anakin cracks his fist against Ren's jaw. Ren goes flying backwards, falling to the floor.

“Won't be getting out any time soon, huh?” Anakin spits.

He stumbles back to his feet, holding his jaw and looking at Anakin with enraged shock. The other vampire, Hux, is simply watching, looking moderately impressed with Anakin from a few feet away.

Two other vampires have appeared in one of the doorways to the lobby, looking on in surprise. None of them rush in to restrain Anakin, to drag him back to his cell that now lays in ruins, to kill him on the spot.

Ren's fist flies at Anakin's face, and he ducks back smoothly, anticipating it. Ren swings again, Anakin ducks again, and brings his elbow down onto the back of Ren's neck. “You've got to be kidding me,” he growls. “That's the best you got? _Leader_ of the _dark side?_ ”

If Anakin were human, the new punch to his face would have definitely knocked out teeth. It does cut his lip, and he spits out blood.

Truth be told, Anakin doesn't know that much about hand to hand combat, about fist-fights you'd have in back alleys of bars after one too many drinks. Sure, he's a trained hunter, and knows a variety of techniques against vampires.

All of those techniques require a Jedi's wooden stake and the distracting scent of a Jedi's blood.

He has an equal opponent.

The fight is hard fists and gripping, tearing fingers. It's fangs piercing and ripping. It's swift kicks and headlocks and fingernails scratching. There are a variety of wounds all over Anakin's body, some shallower than others, all dripping red. Ren pulls Anakin by the bloodied hair and throws him to the floor. Fist full of Anakin's hair, he smashes his head against the floor too many times for Anakin to count.

His vision is all blurred, but he can see the crowd that's gathered around them. Fifty vampires, at least, all standing around them and murmuring to each other. Some are shouting support for their victor, some are taking bets. It's a fight to the death and they don't know who will win. They don't know who will become the true leader of the dark side.

Well, Anakin does.

He kicks Ren swiftly in the stomach hard enough to throw him off. Anakin clambers his way to his feet, the world swaying beneath him, but adrenaline surging. He blinks one of his eyes hard against the blood that's dripped into it from the cut on his brow.

Ren is walking toward him and there's fire in his gold eyes. The fire in Anakin's head burns hotter, while he drags heavy breaths between his teeth, and with a grin, gestures Ren forward.

Ren lunges at him, but it's just what Anakin wants, and he side-steps just enough to grab his arms around the vampire and pin him to the floor. He bares his fangs and breaks the toughened skin of Ren's neck.

Ren hisses in pain, and Anakin is pretty sure the crowd is shouting, but he can't hear them. The vampire beneath him is struggling to regain some kind of dominance, punching and kicking and shoving at Anakin in any way he can manage, but Anakin is stronger, and he's not about to let go of Ren's neck. He claws at Anakin with his fingernails, scratching deep wounds, shoving at his face. Anakin is stronger. He's drinking Ren's bitter, dead blood and he's stronger.

He drains the blood until Ren stops fighting back, until he stops moving, until he's lying limp on the ground and Anakin is standing in the center of the wild crowd of vampires. They're looking on in shock, in fear, in glowing pride. Anakin's shoulders rise and fall with each labored breath he takes, eyes scanning the crowd that has grown to fill the entire lobby.

“I am Darth Vader, leader of the dark side, do you _HEAR ME?_ ” he shouts, voice ragged. “He told you I was dead! He made fools of you _all!_ ”

The room is tilting under his feet, and now the adrenaline is beginning to wear off, Anakin can precisely feel each of his wounds. He's weak, too weak, but this isn't over yet. It's not over until he finds Obi-Wan.

 

 

 

Obi-Wan is on his hands and knees, watching the floorboards melt and sway beneath his blurred vision as he tries to crawl out of the circle of crosses. He reaches his hand out to move one aside, just one to start, but the moment his hand touches the symbol, his muscles stop working and all he does is collapse.

It's at that moment that the door swings open so hard it slams back loudly against the wall.

“Obi-Wan!”

“Ana... Anakin...”

He sees Anakin's spinning figure running over to him. He's covered in blood and wounds and oh, god, what happened to him? What's happening?

“We have to go. Now,” Anakin says. “Fuck, crosses. Crosses! Are you fucking kidding me?”

He holds out his hand to Obi-Wan and he takes it, grabbing Anakin's arm with both hands and hauling himself to his feet with both of their effort. Anakin drags him over the circle of crosses, where Obi-Wan then falls against him.

Obi-Wan's face is pressed against Anakin's shoulder that's damp and crimson but he has no intention of moving. Anakin's arms are tight around him, holding him close. Anakin kisses the top of his head, keeping his lips pressed there several moments while Obi-Wan regains his strength.

Obi-Wan pulls away, reluctant, but he knows they have to get out of here. And he quickly finds that Anakin is now the one having trouble standing on his own.

“What happened to you?” he asks, trying to wipe the blood off Anakin's face but only smearing it.

“I'll explain later. We have... we have to go,” Anakin says, stumbling over to the window. He throws it open, sticky, warm night air blowing inside.

“Can you even walk?” Obi-Wan asks, following him more slowly.

“Of course I can _walk_ ,” he grumbles.

“Anakin! Stop!” A new voice calls from the doorway. Oh, no.

They both turn to see Darth Sidious giving a dark, warning look.

Shit.

Neither of them are in any condition to fight, especially not Palpatine, especially not _now,_ of all times. Obi-Wan can't look at the darkness he sees in the old vampire's gold eyes. It's something so unholy it can't be looked at, shouldn't be looked at.

“Anakin...” Palpatine warns. “You are being unwise...”

"Like that's anything new," Anakin spits. He grabs Obi-Wan by the wrist and pulls him through the window when he jumps out into the night.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> p.s if you're enjoying vampakin hell i recommend GOLDEN by orangepatrick (who is an amazing bean btw), which was """"dedicated"""" to this story and is a great time!


	5. 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is l8 but thts fi n e

_They'll have to come eventually..._

Dark room. 1216. Thick shadows. 1215.

_Foolish, you are, Darth Sidious. This, you have always been. Pity, I feel for you. Let me go, why don't you?_

Dark laughter. Thick gold.

_They will come. And when they do... Oh, I suppose I will have to kill them all. And then, well... Then, your Jedi will be dead once and for all. May the dark side prosper._

Rey opens her eyes with a sharp gasp, as if coming out of a nightmare. But she's already sitting, legs crisscrossed on the floor of her apartment, palms resting upward. Trying to communicate with Yoda was hard this time around. There were too many images being projected like bad dreams, too many distant words.

And _where_ are Anakin and Obi-Wan?

No, she can't worry about them right now. She knows they'll come home soon enough. They're probably back at Anakin's place making out or something she'd rather not walk in on.

Rey is on her feet, sliding on her coat, situating the leather strap containing her stake over her back, and walking out of the front door. She ties her hair up into three buns as she walks down the hall.

The lights are out at the far end of the hall, no outside light coming through, and instead offering her a fog of darkness to get through to reach the stairs. No, wait, there's something in those shadows. Someone.

Rey draws her stake immediately, ready to strike, when into the fluorescent light comes Obi-Wan Kenobi, carrying a barely conscious Anakin in his arms.

“What happened? Where were you guys?” she asks, tucking the unnecessary stake away. She quickly takes Anakin from Obi-Wan's arms, and the vampire looks grateful. He seems super tired, but not injured. There's no blood on him except what's from Anakin, who is covered in wounds.

“We got captured by some vampires, and taken to the same place Yoda is being held,” Obi-Wan explains. “Anakin fought Kylo Ren and we escaped.”

“Killed him,” Anakin mumbles. When Rey looks back down at him, his eyes are shut. “Drained his... fucking blood...”

“ _Killed_ him, of course, sorry,” Obi-Wan sighs. “Regardless, Anakin may possibly be Darth Vader again, and Yoda is still being held captive by Palpatine.”

 _What?_ “You mean you didn't get Yoda out of there? What the hell, Obi-Wan?”

“We couldn't,” he tells her apologetically. “Palpatine had me weakened by crosses, and Anakin was in no shape to fight. We would have been killed.”

Rey sighs, looking away. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Where is Luke?”

She presses her lips into a line. “He left. Went back to wherever the hell he's been staying. He said he couldn't be around here anymore, all this 'vampire stuff', as he put it. It brought him back to a bad place.” Whatever. She's not mad. She just wishes he hadn't left her when she really needed him. But he insisted she _didn't_ need him, that she and these two vampires could handle everything fine.

“We should get back to the hotel as soon as possible,” Obi-Wan says. “We'll give it a day's rest.”

“So, we're rescuing Yoda tomorrow night.”

“Ideally. Are you ready?”

Rey snorts. Is he kidding her? She's been ready since she found out he was missing, ready for this kind of mission since the day she was made Luke's apprentice. “Of course I'm ready.”

He nods. “I'll go out tonight for weapons, before sunrise. You and Anakin should rest.”

“I'd say,” she agrees, looking back down at the vampire that's getting heavy in her arms. She turns to go back to her apartment, but pauses. “Hey, Obi-Wan?”

“Yes?”

“Be careful out there, alright?”

He gives her what's possibly the warmest smile she's seen on anyone, let alone a vampire, and it's suddenly clear to her how Anakin fell in love with him. He nods firmly. “Goodnight, Rey.”

 

 

 

He feels considerably less dead when he wakes up, which is saying a lot, because he felt pretty damn close to it last night. But he wakes to the sound of the front door opening, a variety of locks all clicking out of place, and then the door swinging open.

It takes Anakin a minute to remember where he is, but when he recognizes Rey's apartment, the flood of memories return. Particularly, of Kylo Ren slamming his head into the floor repeatedly, which is probably why it aches so bad. He's lying across Rey's couch, and he can just see her feet on the bed around the corner of the flat, which means she's asleep, he guesses. He really wants to shower.

It's Obi-Wan that comes inside, setting all the locks back in place. He's wearing that long cloak again, and Anakin thinks back to so long ago, when Obi-Wan had surprise-attacked him one night to test his skills.

So, _so_ long ago. Before Anakin knew what it was like to kill anything. Before they went dark.

“Good evening,” Obi-Wan says quietly, coming over to join him on the couch. Anakin scoots over to make room. “How are you feeling?”

“I'm fine,” he answers shortly. “What is that?” He looks at the white paper bag Obi-Wan is holding.

He smiles at the question, almost shyly. “I was feeling a bit theatrical,” he explains, and pulls out a black mask from the bag. “I know it isn't exactly like the one you used to have but—”

“Extremely theatrical,” Anakin says, cutting off the words. He takes the mask from him, turning it over in his hands. Better than the one he used to have. Even more ridiculous, which is perfect.

Obi-Wan laughs quietly. “Well, I figured it we're going out to off a powerful, ancient vampire, we might as well have the proper vigilante look.”

“You think he'll recognize us?” Anakin asks, holding the mask up to his face. “Or will our identities be _concealed?_ ” He grins.

Obi-Wan takes out a second mask, setting the bag aside on the coffee table. It's similar to Anakin's, though it's white and gold. Obi-Wan ties it on. “I feel as if my vision is somehow obscured. How did you put up with this all of the time?”

“You get used to it,” he hums. “Black and white?”

“Rey's is red. Seemed to fit the vampire theme. Do you think she likes red?”

“Dunno.”

Black and white. Opposites. Always opposites—no, two halves. Obi-Wan always looked best in white, and even in such darkness, he's still the sun.

Anakin hugs Obi-Wan tightly, then, leaning his face against his shoulder. “Are you ready for this?” he asks, looking at the wall with his eyes half-lidded.

“I suppose so,” Obi-Wan answers. “We have everything we need. The skills, the weapons, the clever disguises.” He falls silent, fingers rubbing circles in Anakin's back. But then he asks gently, “Are you afraid?”

“No.” Of course he's not afraid. He's been waiting to for this night every night for the past year. He's _ready._

“No? I am.”

“I'm sure as hell not!” Rey announces, stretching her arms over her head when Anakin pulls way from Obi-Wan to look at her.

“Good evening, Rey,” Obi-Wan greets her.

“Yeah, hey, lovebirds. So, when are we doing this?'

 

 

 

It's around midnight, in fact, when they do it. It's around midnight when Anakin is running across rooftops with Rey and Obi-Wan, each of them cloaked and masked. With a stake slung over his back, Anakin almost feels like a Jedi. Almost.

But he's not a Jedi, has never been a Jedi, will never be. Right now, he's a hunter.

1216\. That's the room Rey said Yoda is being kept in. Either that, or 1215. She explained that her “vision” or whatever had been unclear. Anakin still doesn't really buy into that kind of thing, but if it works, he's not going to protest.

The plan is pretty simple: bust in, assume Palpatine will actually _be_ there, and not lurking somewhere else, and attack. Anakin came up with that much of the plan. No time to waste dancing around a fight.

There's an open window on the top floor of the hotel, which any vampire could easily swing into from the roof. Rey has a cable currently wound up at her hip for herself.

“You know,” she says, before they go in. “For vampires, you guys are pretty alright.”

“Sounds like you don't expect us to make it,” Anakin says, shooting her a grin. “You don't think we can handle this?”

“That remains to be seen,” Obi-Wan mentions, and then he's the first to head in through the window, disappearing off the roof like nothing but a shadow.

But Anakin hesitates. If they _do_ end up dead, that leaves the dark side without a leader.

Well, he hasn't considered this until now.

“What are you waiting for?” Rey asks, shifting from foot to foot.

“You follow Obi-Wan,” Anakin says, taking a few steps back. He has to find the rest of the vampires. He knows what he's going to do. “I'll catch up.”

“Are you kidding? We need you! Where are you going?”

Anakin shakes his head. “You'll be fine,” he says, and means it. “Just hurry and get this over with.”

And he jumps off the roof before she can reply, cape billowing out behind him. He's going to walk right into the dilapidated front lobby.

It's reckless, he'll admit, sending Rey and Obi-Wan to take out Palpatine themselves rather than to wait for him. But he's not about to waste any time. Once his presence is known, it won't be long before Palpatine knows about it too.

When he walks in the hotel, pushing open the front doors, he finds a ton of vampires hanging around the lobby, some relaxing and talking, some playing cards, some walking through on some kind of business. Phasma is sitting around a circle of them, and she's just the face Anakin wants to see.

When he walks in, all heads turn.

“Vampires of the dark side,” Anakin announces, lowering the hood of his black cloak. “If you hadn't heard last night, I slayed Kylo Ren, and became your leader once more, as Darth Vader.”

A few excited cheers rise up among them, which he ignores. He unties his mask, taking it off, and wonders if some of them—those who didn't witness the fight with Ren—have ever seen him without it.

“But that's not my name,” he says. “My name is Anakin Skywalker, and I'm here to say goodbye.”

Confused murmurs rise up now, and some questions are thrown at him, but all Anakin has to do is raise a hand for them to silence.

“I'm resigning from any position I have here, and instead, I'd like to name a new leader in my place. But be warned.” He frowns sharply. “If any of you should kill, rather than take the blood of animals, or from hospitals, I will return, and I will be very, _very_ angry.” He smiles. “But yeah, anyway...” He holds up the mask, meets Phasma's eyes from across the room, and grins wider.

 

 

 

Rey leads Obi-Wan down a dark hallway, just like the one she saw while meditating. Her stake is in her hand now, raised in front of her.

“There's 1215,” she whispers, noting the glint of the once-gold number of the door.

“But you also said it could be 1216,” Obi-Wan answers quietly, glancing down the hall at the neighboring room.

Rey nods. “I saw both, true. Let's just try this one.”

Obi-Wan breaks the door open with a sharp turn of the knob, and then they're both running into the candlelit darkness that welcomes them.

The attack doesn't come. They aren't swarmed by vampires, nor are they attacked by the ancient vampire they came here to kill.

The wall between room 1215 and 1216 had been knocked down, opening into a large room that looks... like a luxury hotel suite. Large bed, clean wooden floors, perfect wallpaper, furniture expensive and overtly luxurious.

Beneath the window on the far side of the room, Yoda sits on the floor.

The old man's back is to them, and he's still dressed in one of his dated suits. He doesn't acknowledge their harsh intrusion, in fact, he's meditating.

Rey opens her mouth to say something—hell, Palpatine's no where around here; they could just escape now. But the moment she begins to speak, a new voice takes over from behind her.

“I had a feeling that you would come soon,” Palpatine says. Rey and Obi-Wan both spin around at the words, finding the vampire meandering toward them in his black, hooded cloak.

Rey frowns sharply, eyes not moving from him. “What gave you the idea,” she mutters.

“Not another step closer, vampire,” Obi-Wan warns. “You're outmatched.” _Vampire._ Just a few weeks ago, the idea of a vampire fighting their own kind was inconceivable.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi,” comes Yoda's voice, and Obi-Wan glances quickly back at him. “Good, it is, to see you again. Where is Skywalker?”

“He didn't say,” Obi-Wan answers.

“Find him, you should,” the old Jedi advises. “Handle this, Rey and I can.”

What? Hell no. This isn't the plan at all! She's supposed to have Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Yoda. All of them together is the only way to fight an ancient vampire. Right? Wouldn't Yoda know that?

“Trust me, you can.” Yoda is walking over to them, gingerly unbuttoning his suit jacket with thin, frail fingers. He lets it fall to the floor behind him, and underneath he's wearing a plain white shirt with suspenders, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He pulls out the stake strapped to him.

“Where did you get that?” Palpatine asks. He sounds calm, but Rey can sense the fear behind his voice.

“Fashioned it myself, I did,” Yoda says, while Obi-Wan shares a worried glance at Rey before ducking out to find Anakin. “A great lot of furniture you provided, and time alone, as well.” For an old man, frail as Rey remembered him to be, he looks healthier than ever. Muscular, even. He's definitely been getting into shape, along with making the stake. “Allowed you to underestimate me, I have, Darth Sidious. All to my advantage, it has been.”

Yes, Rey can definitely sense fear in the black-cloaked vampire in front of them. Yet Palpatine's composure remains, along with that faint, creepy smile on his chalk-white face. “Where are the rest of the Jedi to help you?” He aims this question at Rey.

Rey scowls, baring her teeth as if curling her lip will reveal threatening fangs. “I don't need any _help._ ”

She doesn't wait for any timed beginning to the fight. With those words, she strikes at the vampire with her stake.

Palpatine blocks the attack immediately, as she sort of expected, having drawn a long, metal stake from somewhere within his cloak. One of _those_ kinds of vampires, then. The kind that won't fight with teeth and fists, like vampires ought to. The kind that don't think of themselves as monsters at all.

She's run into a few before. Can't really stand them.

Yoda joins her in a direct attack, laying swift slash after slash with their stakes, and Palpatine blocks them all. He jumps clear over them in a front flip. Right, the power of an ancient vampire.

But as Rey is turning around to face him again, knuckles white around the leather grip of her stake, white hot pain slashes down her back. She falls to the floor with a brief cry, red mask falling from her face. Her cloak is torn, and when she looks back up at Palpatine, his metal stake is dripping red with blood. Her blood. It spreads warmly down her back, pain radiating from the wound so strongly that it puts shadows in the edges of her vision. She can't get back up. She keeps trying, watching Yoda fight the vampire, but she can't.

“Yoda!” she cries, voice ragged. She tosses him her stake, which he catches in his unoccupied hand. The action causes another wave of pain to flood across her back, and she all but collapses afterward.

Then she's watching. And she hates watching. But it's all she can do—watch old Yoda fight the old vampire in the dark hotel bedroom, in what looks like an even match.

 

 

 

Anakin is tying his mask in a careful knot at the back of Phasma's head, managing to keep her pale blonde hair out of the ribbon. The vampires are cheering her on, which is pretty much what he expected. Phasma is well-liked, and a good leader, too. She's dedicated, and that's what matters. But that isn't to say Anakin won't be keeping an eye on her to make sure the town stays safe.

He has no fucking idea what he's going to do after tonight—if he lives until sunrise.

“Anakin!” A voice he immediately recognizes shouts his name, and he finds Obi-Wan pushing his way through the crowd of cheering vampires. He's the only one without a fanged smile on his face.

Anakin rushes into the crowd to meet him, and he's glad they're mostly preoccupied with congratulating Phasma, chanting her name and everything.

They grab onto each other immediately, Anakin putting a hand to Obi-Wan's face, Obi-wan grabbing onto his arm. “What are you doing? You're supposed to be with Rey, fighting Palpatine.”

He nods quickly. “Yes, I know. Yoda told me to come look for you. He and Rey apparently have everything under control.”

“Like hell they do!” He takes hold of Obi-Wan's hand.

“Anakin, what are you—”

“Come _on,_ ” he says, tugging Obi-Wan out of the crowd before taking off down the hall.

He's pretty sure Yoda and Rey _can_ handle it. In fact, he's definitely sure. But no way in fucking _hell_ is he about to let anyone deliver the final blow on old Darth Sidious except for himself.

Anakin pulls out his stake, leading the way back up to the room. He's riding on pure adrenaline. Not afraid of killing the vampire who made him, not afraid of getting killed.

He pauses outside of the door, whirs around to face Obi-Wan, and before he lets him say a word, Anakin kisses him hard on the mouth with his hand on the back of his neck. And for a moment, just a moment, with kneading lips and twining tongues, they're not in the abandoned hotel, not waiting for a fight. Obi-Wan is kissing him slowly, gently, like everything is fine and they're not about to get killed.

“You're everything to me, Anakin,” Obi-Wan tells him, drawing away from his lips. “I love you.”

Anakin just smiles, and kicks open the door.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can u believe this is almost th last fucking chapter bc I SURE CANNOT


	6. 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS!! SO LATE!!thts fine. srry i have been REKT. but here it is the LAST CHAPTER OF THIS HELL oh my GOD!!!!

The door breaks open, hinges breaking easily behind Anakin's kick. Inside, the two men fighting don't even glance over. Obi-Wan watches as Yoda and Palpatine remain locked in a fervent duel, an age-old battle of hunter and vampire. But anything “age old” isn't Anakin's style, Obi-Wan knows, and he doesn't even bother stopping him when Anakin sheds his cloak and dashes toward the fight.

Obi-Wan keeps his eye on him for only a second before rushing over to where Rey lies crumpled on the floor, the back of her cloak bloodied from the wound that rips its way upward. He places a careful hand on her shoulder, but his eyes drift back to Anakin.

He's marching right over to Palpatine, as if there's no possible way the vampire could ever hurt him. And Anakin looks positively unstoppable. Wild, gold eyes turned dark with rage, lighting up the crooked smile that's half scowl. Beneath the cloak he has cast to the floor, Anakin's wearing a simple, white t-shirt. It will soon be stained with someone's blood. Yoda has stepped back, looking only at Anakin with a knowing smile, and that's when Palpatine turns.

“I'm stronger than you.” Simple words. Obi-Wan wonders if Anakin planned them all this time. He's almost sure he didn't.

Anakin grabs Palpatine by the throat in a flashing movement, fingers clenching hard, and the old vampire _still_ manages to look smug. As if Anakin isn't choking off his air. As if Anakin doesn't have a stake in his other hand.

And the bastard even looks smug and silent when Anakin plunges that stake through his chest.

Palpatine knew Anakin would kill him, Obi-Wan thinks, as his body falls lifelessly to the floor. It was all just a matter of when. When Palpatine wanted Anakin to kill Obi-Wan, it was because he thought Obi-Wan would have managed to kill Anakin first, eliminating the threat. He's glad to see him turning slowly to ash. He'll soon be dust on the wooden floors.

Obi-Wan is drawn back to reality at the sound of Anakin's cry of pain. His eyes refocus, finding Anakin collapsed to his knees.

“Anakin!” He rushes to his side, kneeling down and placing a hand on his arm. “Are you alright?”

“Fine, he will be,” Yoda answers instead. He sounds perfectly composed for just having dueled an ancient vampire. “His maker, Darth Sidious was. The pain of his fatal wounds, Skywalker feels.”

Oh, Anakin.

He's got his arms wrapped tightly around himself, head tucked downward with his eyes screwed shut. Obi-Wan pulls him in to his chest, and holds him there for a long time while Yoda tends to Rey across the room.

“You've done well,” Obi-Wan whispers into Anakin's hair. He feels the vampire relax against him, and presses his lips to the top of his head. "I'm proud of you."

“Are you two done being gross?” Rey asks. When Obi-Wan looks over, he finds the hunter with an arm slung around Yoda's shoulders. There's obvious pain in her eyes, but she's still smiling. “I want to go to bed.”

 

 

 

Anakin is looking out of the only window in the apartment, hair freshly washed and dripping wet onto his clean shirt. Obi-Wan's shirt, actually. Outside, the sky has become the faintest blue on the horizon. Dawn will come soon.

Obi-Wan comes to stand beside him, leaning his forearm against the window frame as he looks through the glass too. Anakin turns his head just minutely to look at him, at his blond hair, at his pensive gold eyes, at his features that will never change. Neither will the sunrise, neither will Anakin.

“It's like everything is back to the way it was,” Obi-Wan says. His voice is a little rough, tired, matches his fatigued eyes.

Anakin looks back at the city skyline. It will never be the same. Not after all they've been through. Not after trying to kill each other, not after _turning to the dark side._ “It's my fault,” he mutters. “If only I hadn't... fallen for it in the beginning. If only I hadn't—”

“You did it to save Padme.”

He smiles at the irony, but her name is a stake in his heart. “And I'm the one who killed her, in the end.”

“Her fate was inevitable,” Obi-Wan says. “You ought to bury the past, Anakin. We're here forever, after all.”

“We should leave,” Anakin suggests.

Obi-Wan sighs, as if taking a moment to contemplate the idea. “We have obligations to the Jedi—I believe they expect us to return, having... joined the dark side or not.”

He looks at Obi-Wan suddenly, brows drawing together. “We're not Jedi, Obi-Wan,” he says, shaking his head. “Jedi don't have gold eyes.” He lowers his gaze again. “We could still hunt, we could... really turn rogue.”

“It would take some convincing.”

“Maybe it would. Not like that would be a new challenge for us.”

Obi-Wan smiles and places a hand at Anakin's arm. He half-expects the touch to be warm. “Let's go to bed. It will be daylight soon. And then in the evening... we can talk about leaving.”

Anakin follows Obi-Wan into bed, and then it's silent in the dark apartment, nothing but the sound of slow breathing, as he curls up against Obi-Wan's chest. It's hard not to give in to sleep once he's lying there, comfortable beside the man he never wants to ever leave again. Obi-Wan's hand is in Anakin's hair, fingers pulling gently through it until they go still. Anakin falls asleep shortly after.

But he wakes to the sound of a scream.

Below the window. Outside. In the alley cornered by vampires. Anakin throws off the blankets and jumps to his feet, hurriedly pulling on sweatpants. Flickering street lamp. Maroon shoe lying on the sidewalk.

“Anakin, where are you going?” comes Obi-Wan's tired mumble. He's sitting up in bed, watching Anakin rush around.

“The scream—didn't you hear the scream?” Padme. Padme's scream. Padme—

“Anakin, no one screamed,” he says, his voice gentler. “It's alright. Come back to bed.”

Padme has been dead for over a year. Anakin isn't a Jedi. Obi-Wan is waiting in bed for him.

He nods, running a hand back through his hair as he comes back to reality. “Yeah. I'm sorry.”

He climbs back into bed, lying so he faces Obi-Wan, but despite his eyes being open, he's not really looking at him. Everything is okay now. He should remember that.

“Anakin...” Obi-Wan has turned to face him as well, hand moving so that it rests gently over Anakin's waist. “Are you alright?”

“Palpatine is dead,” he mumbles, looking at his chest instead of his eyes. “The Jedi are back to normal, and the dark side isn't even a problem anymore... Everything is supposed to be okay now, but I still feel like I'm waiting to wake up from a nightmare.”

“Oh, Ani.” Obi-Wan pulls him closer, and kisses him firmly on the lips once, twice, three times. It does console him some. “This isn't a nightmare,” he says, and when Anakin looks at him, he finds him smiling. “It's the start of something good.”

Something good. Yeah, he's right. At least, he's right while Anakin is looking into those eyes.

Regardless, he sleeps without any nightmares.

 

 

 

Everything is packed. Though it's not much, there are a few suitcases in the apartment just below where they are on the roof of the building they're leaving today, two weeks since the death of Darth Sidious. The sun is nearly set, still casting a bit of an orange glow, but nothing harmful.

The last time Obi-Wan kissed this city goodbye, he left everything. The Jedi, vampire hunting, _Anakin._ But now he's sitting on the ledge of the roof, legs hanging over the side, and he's holding Anakin against him in his lap.

Anakin bites his lip suddenly and Obi-Wan gasps before breaking off into a laugh, pulling away from the mouth he hasn't left for at least the last ten minutes.

“Did I scare you?” Anakin asks, grinning.

“You have fangs!”

“Mm, so do you,” he mumbles, and then he's kissing Obi-Wan's neck, dragging said fangs over his skin.

He's hesitant at first, but when he does bite, Obi-Wan gasps out a moan because, yes, _that_ is a surprisingly good feeling. “I wouldn't suggest doing that while I'm the only thing keeping you from falling several stories,” he breathes.

Anakin draws away from him and no—wait—Obi-Wan knows that grin. He's about to do something horrifically stupid. “We're both indestructible.” He shifts so that his foot is poised against the edge of the roof.

“Wait—Anakin—don't—”

He pushes off, yanking Obi-Wan off of the roof with him.

And Obi-Wan shouts in surprise, clinging to Anakin for life as the warm air rushes around them. Anakin is laughing wildly, of course, and when they land, they're somehow both on their feet and not dead.

Obi-Wan glances around the darkening streets. “If anyone saw that—”

“No one did,” Anakin assures him, gold eyes gleaming. “That was fun.”

“Your definition of fun and _my_ definition of fun aren't _anything_ alike,” he breathes.

“Nonsense. Do you want to take a walk?” Anakin asks. He's entwined his fingers with Obi-Wan's, and now he's looking down at their hands thoughtfully. “You know, before we leave. Just to say goodbye.”

Obi-Wan nods. Saying goodbye. It's an impossible thought, though Obi-Wan has done it before. Yet he returned, and he has a feeling he'll always return, and he has a feeling that some day, in a year, in a decade, in a century, they'll be back again.

They walk off down the familiar, dark street, yellow street lamps taking over for the disappearing sun. He squeezes Anakin's hand a little tighter and god, he's glad Anakin is his.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thats!! it thats the end!!! there it is!!! 
> 
> str8 up im so glad i wrote this hell fic, which started as literally a joke of me saying "BRUH I HAD A DREAM ABOUT VAMPIRES. AND I THINK OBI WAN WAS THERE" and my blessing of a friend being like "lmao obi wan kenobi: vampire hunter"
> 
> AND NOW LOOK!!! its almost 50k it was supposed to be FIVE SHORT CHAPTERS WHT! HAVE I DONE! (a great thing tbh)
> 
> thank u everyone for reading and thank u everyone who left great comments and kudos!!
> 
> (+i will be writing more obikin so keep a weather eye out if you enjoy my trash!)


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